


no grave (can hold my body down)

by IzzieBee



Category: The Rookie (TV 2018)
Genre: 1x01, 1x11, 1x14, 1x17, 1x19, 1x20, 2x01, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Fluff, Friends With Benefits, Longing, Lovers then Friends then Lovers again, Mutual Pining, One Night Stands, Pre-Canon, Pre-Canon Divergence, Season 1 Re-write, Slow Burn, Smut, season 2 re-write
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-27
Updated: 2020-05-10
Packaged: 2021-02-28 16:27:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 19,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23350171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IzzieBee/pseuds/IzzieBee
Summary: Usually, Lucy would never do this.Sit in a dive bar, looking around for some guy to take her home.Usually Tim would never do this.Play along, flirt, with a woman who is in her early thirties, (maybe, if he was lucky and it turned out he was not being a complete creep), in some trashy bar.ORTim and Lucy's one night stand has repercussions, and neither of them no how to deal.(Being friends with benefits, seemed like a good idea at the time, honestly)
Relationships: Tim Bradford/Lucy Chen
Comments: 125
Kudos: 378





	1. you do it naturally

Usually, Lucy would never do this. 

Sit in a dive bar, looking around for some guy to take her home. That just wasn’t Lucy, but it wasn’t like she didn’t have her reasons. 

She was just rejected by Nolan, a guy twice her age (not quite, but it’s easier to pretend he was), who she had a crush on, for months. He was dating Grace, a former college girlfriend, and he had been keeping it on the down low until he was sure it would last. 

Turns out he was pretty sure it was going to last, and Lucy left that conversation biting back tears, feeling like an absolute idiot. 

If Jackson was here, or Rachel she would be making a better choice. She would be singing karaoke, or tossing back drinks in her PJs with a bad movie in the background. But, Rachel was visiting her folks, and Jackson had a date so there was absolutely no one here who could talk her out of making bad decisions. 

(Isn’t that why she picked tonight to go out? It wasn’t because, going to a dive bar by yourself meant that there was no one to talk you out of bad decisions; she really wasn’t that reckless, normally, right?)

Bad decisions could be okay, sometimes, right?

And oh boy, did she want to make a bad decision. The kind of bad decision that would make her walk funny for a week, and forget her own name. She hadn’t had anything, good or bad in months, and a girl had needs, okay?

She took another sip, and looked around the bar. She just didn’t have any good prospects; she wanted to pick some guy, and make her bad decision, but indecision was burrowing deep in her gut. 

The problem was picking some guy; she didn’t have any moral objections, but who was to say that some guy she picked up at a bar would be good in bed? Then, who was to say some guy she made awkward small talk with for three dates would be good in bed either? 

Lucy rolled her shoulders and tried to just listen to the music, that sucked, but what could she expect, she choose this bar because it was not a cop bar, and was as trashy as she could find. She didn’t want to run into classmates from the academy, or old coworkers or fellow UCLA alums, she just wanted to have some fun. 

Fun usually meant ‘The Bachelor’ and a glass of wine, but tonight, that was just not going to cut it. 

She just… She just needed to get the sting of rejection out of her skin, worked out of her system. She wanted to be with someone who thought she was sexy, and who would make her toes curl. 

Was that too much to ask? 

In a week she would be starting at a new station, and her career would be her life. She would focus on being the best cop, and passing all her exams with flying colors. She would make sergeant before 35, and captain before 40. She would put her head down and work. 

Tonight, though, she just wanted to be young and stupid and have her needs freaking met. 

She probably would have settled, in the end, with getting the wrong side of tipsy and calling an uber home, if she hadn’t spotted him. 

She had bee sipping her margarita, trying not to wince at how overly sweet the bartender had made it, when she noticed a guy at the end of the bar. 

Clean cut, older than her (was that her type? God, her mom would have a field day with that), maybe 40. Her parents played a game with her when she was a kid, ‘guess the occupation’, and she got scary good. She would have put money on the fact that this guy, besides being stupid hot, was military or ex military. 

He really was stupid hot, but he was probably married, or dating someone, or interested in dating someone his own age or five years younger than her, men can be such fucking pigs-

Her spiral was firmly interrupted by a tap on the shoulder.

She turned and a guy, clearly a few drinks a head of her, was standing (well more accurately, swaying) in front of her. 

“Buy you a drink?” The guy half asked, half slurred. 

“I’m good,” Lucy tilted her almost full drink in his direction, “Thanks though-”

“Come on one drink-” He insisted, and Lucy tried not to roll her eyes. Going home a drinking a glass of wine with an episode of The Bachelor suddenly seemed a lot more appealing. 

“I said no,” Lucy put the steel in her voice that usually would have him turning and swaying away but this guy was either really drunk, really an asshole, or both. 

“Oh come on,” He shrugged, still swaying, “We could have some fun-”

“She said no,” Military guy was there, looking really tall, built and not pleased. She would usually object to the whole white knight routine, but it was kind of really hot in some primordial, cave man way. 

“She’s with-” The guy’s head ping-ponged back and forth between them, obviously confused and now looking a little panicked.

Of course if she was with a guy, than he would feel bad; this dude really was the worst. 

“I’m here by myself,” Lucy rolled her eye’s, “Actually, and you really are not taking no for an answer. Dick move.”

“Whatever,” The guy muttered before slinking off, hopefully back to whatever swamp he crawled out from. 

Asshole

“Thanks ,” Lucy said, looking up at the guy who was more handsome up close (how was that fair), “That was nice of you. Could have dealt with it myself though.”

“I have no doubt,” He said, seriously. He said it like he actually believed it, and she liked him even more. 

“Still,” Lucy looked up at him through her eye lashes, the drink and half making her a little more brave, “Thanks.” 

“That guy was being an idiot,” He waved her off with a half smile that he should have to carry a license for, “Well if you’re okay-”

“I am okay,” Lucy said quickly, “You want me to buy you drink, to say thank you of course.” 

“Why don’t I finish this one,” He smirked, holding up his full beer, “And then we’ll see?”

Lucy blushed, despite herself. 

“I’m Lucy,” Lucy laughed, “And you are?”

“Tim,” He smiled that lethal half smile, “Pleasure to meet you.”

❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁

Usually Tim would never do this. 

Play along, flirt, with a woman who is in her early thirties, (maybe, if he was lucky and it turned out he was not being a complete creep), in some trashy bar. He didn’t have a shift tomorrow, and he could have just gone home, after a twelve hour day, but-

It was nice flirting with her, it was nice noticing her. 

He wouldn’t have let himself notice her, after all, if Isabelle was still around. 

But she wasn’t and there was nothing he could find that took the sting out of that, not really. 

But his marriage was over. Isabelle got herself sober all on her own, and had left for New York, not even bothering to give him the divorce papers until she was heading to the airport. 

She had given him a sad sort of smile, and a kiss on the cheek and walked out of his life like it was easy. Like she wasn’t the love of his life, or that she hadn’t made his life hell for the last year. 

Like all of this was easy. 

That had been months ago, and the burning pain had faded to more of a dull throb. He was moving on. 

He was trying to move on.

So he let himself notice the women at the other end of the bar. 

He would have left her alone, the women by herself at the other end of the bar. She was stirring her drink with the ineffectual black straw, they always gave with drinks like that. She kept looking around the room, as if she inspecting it, or trying to solve some mystery and the clues were all there. He would have loved to know why she was studying this dive bar so closely, to see if he could make her laugh or smile or even roll her eyes in his direction. 

She was beautiful and young, though, and she didn’t need some older guy bothering her. 

That thought however, was not shared by everyone; some drunk idiot started harassing her, and this knight in shining armor armor alarm went off (as Lopez and Bishop, annoyingly, called it). 

He went over, just to get the guy to leave her alone (that’s what he told himself, anyway), but then she had offered to buy his drink, and he was pulled into her orbit, completely. 

(That had always been his weakness, bold and beautiful women who could pull him off his axis without a moments notice). 

All he knew about this woman was that her name was Lucy, and that she was beautiful, funny, and disarmingly smart. She had long hair, curling around her, and a great laugh, and had on tight jeans that he was trying (and failing) not to notice, especially how they highlight other assets she had. An hour into their conversation, and he was completely charmed (not that he would admit that he was charmed in the first five minutes). 

She was smart, and sexy and completely out of his league. But she kept leaning in when he talked, and kept looking at him through her eye lashes. Maybe, just this once, he would pretend he wasn’t a grizzled, beat cop, divorce, with too many demons, that stretched back to his old job an ocean away, and a house that was never a home. 

In this moment, maybe Tim could just be some guy who shot his shot, in a grunge bar, sitting next to a woman, who seemed to like him, a little bit. 

“Hey,” Tim said, not believing the words coming out of his own mouth, “Do you want to get out of here?”

“Yes,” Lucy said, biting her lip, “Let’s.”

Tim smiled, and decided that maybe fresh starts weren’t as horrible as he thought they were going to be. 

❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁

Lucy woke up and felt completely and utterly satisfied. 

She couldn’t believe that she did that. 

Went home with some guy.

That had been the plan, but in the back of her head, she had really thought she would chicken out but-

Something about Tim, she just knew it would be okay. Something in her gut knew, that it would be good. 

And she was right (thank god, because after Nolan, she had been questioning her judgment). 

Because it wasn’t just good; it was fucking great. .

She had made out with him against his truck in the bar’s parking lot, and in his truck, and in his doorway. She had been tugging at her shirt before he could even close the door (he lived in a house, like a real ass adult, and all she could focus on was his fingers on her skin). He had picked her up like she was nothing, and made her come twice before she could push his head away and pull him up kissing him feeling the right kind of dirty. 

When they had fucked, well, it had blown her fucking mind. 

It had been toe curling, and she had felt sexy, in control. Most of all it was just fun. 

Her judgment was amazing, and she was feeling, all in all, pretty pleased with herself. 

As amazing as the night before had been, she should have been embarrassed, or felt off waking up in some guys bed. Especially with Tim sound asleep next to her, both of them naked as the day they were born. 

She sat up, pulling the sheet up with her, stretching her neck, rolling her shoulders. She didn’t feel weird or off, just content. 

Pretty damn pleased with herself, all in all. 

She might have to rethink her one-night-stand policy (although, even now, she realized that this experience was probably a fluke, and not the norm, and that this guy might have burdened her with unfairly high expectations).

“Good morning,” Tim was rolling over, throwing Lucy a smile. 

“Morning,” Lucy said, grinning right back. Suddenly she felt a pang of doubt. This was a one night stand after all, should she stay? Was it rude to leave?

They had said the night before that neither of them wanted anything serious, but now, in the cold light of day- 

It would feel really fucking weird to just leave. 

(Maybe they could keep being casual? Or like not? What was Tim thinking-)

“So I know that we are just being casual and all,” Lucy started, tossing her hair behind her shoulder, not even wanting to think about what a bird nest it must have been. 

“You want breakfast,” Tim supplied, not quite correctly, but the doubt started to ebb away none the less. 

Breakfast was a good start, she wanted breakfast with Tim. 

“Yes, please.”

Tim smiled again, and it was so stupid how quickly that had her grinning right back. 

“I think I can make that happen,” Tim pulled on shorts that must have been right next to the bed. She was so busy ogling him, that she almost missed him gesture at the chest of drawers on the other side of the room. 

“You can borrow a shirt from a drawer over there.”

Lucy blushed, realizing she wasn’t sure where she had thrown her tank top, jeans, or bra- 

She had been otherwise engaged. 

At least her underwear was right next to the bed. Tim taking them off her had been a rather memorable moment after all, what with his teeth and-

Lucy shook her head, trying to keep her memories strictly PG.

Small comforts, anyway, that she didn’t have go searching. 

She slipped them on, dragging the sheet with her, as she opened up the drawer that Tim had pointed to. 

Lucy grabbed the first t-shirt she saw, the first thing she noticed was how big it was going to be on her, the second thing she noticed was that it had LAPD, Wilshire Division, written in big block letters. 

She swallowed, and tugged it on, over her head, and followed the sound of bacon frying, her stomach twisting in horrible knots. She went to that bar because it wasn’t a cop bar, and of course knowing her luck-

Lucy shook her head, it didn’t matter, she had to tell him. He thought this was some casual fling, and now she was going to be her co-worker. She stopped dead in her tracks in the doorway to the kitchen, and if she didn’t feel awful before, she really felt it now. 

Tim was shirtless and cracking eggs into a pan, with the smell of bacon sizzling in the air, and it was all making it really, really hard to get out the words she needed to. 

“So umm, I have some good,” Lucy started, then stopped, “well actually, just not even news, really- ”

“Yah, Lucy?” Tim called over his shoulder, focusing on their breakfast. 

“I am graduating from the Academy in a week,” Lucy said, and Tim stopped and turned around fixing her with an expression she couldn’t begin to read. 

Lucy swallowed down stupid, disappointment, that she knew she didn’t have any right to feel. 

“Umm, I got my assignment,” Lucy took a deep breath, “With two of my classmates-”

“Wilshire,” Tim interrupted, his voice cold. 

Lucy shifted from one foot to the other. 

“Yah,” Lucy tried to keep her voice light, but she could feel her cheeks glow, bright red, “So I guess we will be seeing each other around.” 

“More than that.” Tim was like a different person, he wasn’t the joking, funny guy from last night- 

He was a cop, and he wasn’t pleased. 

“Sorry?” Lucy asked.

“You’re last name is Chen,” Tim said, as though he was absolutely sure it was, “Right?”

“Yes,” Lucy scrunched up her eyebrows, her brain trying to catch up- “But how did you know-”

“I’m going to be your T.O.” Tim said, returning back to the bacon and eggs, his voice now with a razor edge, she couldn’t begin to interpret. 

That’s what happens when you go home with a complete stranger, she guessed (there was probably a good reason she didn’t ever do this).

Lucy opened her mouth to say something in response, but just closed it again.

Tim’s whole body was tense, and Lucy realized what a shit show this was, and how much trouble this would cause if anyone ever found out-

Well, she was completely and utterly screwed.


	2. don’t ruin this on me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He took being a T.O. as seriously as he took anything in his life. Bluster and bragging aside, he thought that was the good he was doing, making sure that the cops released on the street were going to do some good. 
> 
> That had to come first, that always had to come first. 
> 
> OR
> 
> Lucy and Tim try to figure out how to work together in there first few weeks in a shop together.

Tim closed the door behind Lucy and he had felt so undeniably stupid. 

How quickly feelings can change. 

Waking up, making someone else breakfast, it was a little thing, and yet he had felt, well happy; happier than he had in a long time. He wasn’t thinking about Isabelle, or the cases that he could still see behind his eyes when he tried to fall asleep. He had been completely wrapped up in her, in Lucy. Making her laugh, making her moan, or her back arch. Seeing how far he could push until she was out of breath and pushing him away, only for Lucy to pull him back in again. 

(He could spend days like that, pushing her and pulling her, being pushed and pulled by her). 

When he woke up, he realized that Lucy was the first woman in his bed since Isabelle. First everything, since Isabelle. He should have freaked out, or put up a wall, instead he just felt steady. He felt like things were as they should. 

When she walked out of his bedroom, all he was worried about was how he could possibly make it through breakfast when she looked that good in his shirt. 

He also was thinking about how he could ask her out to dinner, or drinks. He was wondering how he could stay in her orbit, for a little while. 

(Tim would have stayed in her orbit as long as she would alow it). 

Lucy shifted her weight from one foot to the other, and she said “I am graduating from the Academy in a week.”

He knew, in one fail swoop, what she was going to say. 

He had her academy file in his locker at the station. He had flipped through it only a day before. 28 years old (at least she wasn’t actually half his age, but he would have felt a lot more comfortable if she was 35). All her scores were strong, if not record breaking. Especially high in tactical/interpersonal communication, and she was almost as good a shot as he had been when he entered the academy. Her instructors thought highly of her. Grey was pleased, that her and West were going to be placed at their station. 

He had thought she seemed like a decent candidate, but one he would have to unteach all the bad habits that came from the academy (just like every rookie). 

When he met a woman at a bar, he had never, for a moment considered that the Lucy from the file, and that this Lucy were one in the same. 

But they were. Lucy was a rookie. 

His rookie. 

He took being a T.O. as seriously as he took anything in his life. Bluster and bragging aside, he thought that was the good he was doing, making sure that the cops released on the street were going to do some good. 

That had to come first, that always had to come first. 

She quickly got dressed, after their extremely awkward back and forth, mumbling something about needing to get going. He had turned off the stove, and listened, rather than watch, as Lucy darted around his house, picking up her clothes, getting changed.

She stopped for a moment, as he followed her to the door, and for a moment he though she was going to say something. 

“Maybe, this doesn’t have to change anything.”

“Maybe, we could still give this a shot.”

“Maybe, this was still a good thing.”

“Maybe.”

But she didn’t. She just reached up and kissed his cheek, and said “Bye Tim,” sounding at least half as gutted as he felt. He forced himself to close the door, forced himself so he couldn’t watch her walk away (he didn’t even no how she was getting home; he could have at least offered her a ride-) 

He went to the garage and punched at a bag for an hour before his anger had simmered into something manageable. 

He had a hard time falling asleep that night. He had a hard time falling asleep the next night. 

When he saw her again, the next Monday, sitting up front with the other rookies, it shouldn’t have affected him. He should have been able to separate the eager looking rookie, and the woman who had been in his bed a week before. 

Still, it was like a spark went through him, and he didn’t know who he was more angry with, Lucy or himself.

(Of course it didn’t make sense to be mad at Lucy, she hadn’t done anything on purpose, but if he wasn’t angry with her, how the hell was he supposed to feel about her?) 

Lucy was a hot shot, of course, making her first arrest on the way to work. She was a little unsure of herself, second guessing herself. She would be good, he knew she would be good.

That made it a little easier, he could focus on that. Everything he had to do, from now on was going to be to make sure she was a great cop. 

(If in the process he made Lucy hate him, well that made it easier for everyone, didn’t it?) 

But he kept it to himself that he thought she had potential to be a great cop and tried to ignore the hurt that flitted across her face, every time he barked an order, a little harsher than he needed too. 

He wasn’t trying to be a jerk, (maybe he was a little), but boundaries were important. Boundaries would keep them safe (in more ways than one). It didn’t matter that it was like drawing a line in the sand, that kept get blown away by the wind; he kept drawing those lines, he kept pushing her, farther and farther away. 

His temper, which had always been fiery at best and debilitating at worse, was worse than usual. 

Then he got shot, and angry didn’t even begin to cover it. 

❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁

Seeing Tim that day, sitting back with the other T.O.s and beat cops was like seeing a completely different man than the one she had met in that dive bar. Sure he was still gorgeous to look at, all sharp cheekbones, and looking way to good in his uniform. He was even laughing, making jokes, but she could tell, but it was like there was a wall up, keeping the world at bay. 

Talking with him after roll call was worse, and riding with him was awful. 

Everything she said was shot down, everything he said some test she couldn’t even begin to pass. 

Lucy wondered, if this was the real Tim, and not the one she had met. 

Would that make things easier, or so much harder, if that was true?

Then Tim was shot, in a shoot out with drug dealers. 

On her first day as a rookie.

She had dragged Tim out of the way, while the ambulance screeched in behind her. She probably would have been shot, too, if Nolan hadn’t distracted the shooter. 

They arrested him, in the end, and Tim was safe, her friends were safe. 

Still, it took hours for her heart to stop pounding like she was still in pursuit. 

If everyday was like this…

She didn’t think things could keep going on like this. She could deal with the high octane nature, the danger, and the uncertainty. 

She couldn’t deal if Tim hated her so much that he couldn’t trust her. Hated her so much that she could only fail is stupid fucking tests, even as she dragged him out of harms way, with a bullet stuck in his vest. How was she supposed to learn, then?

It would be different if she didn’t care about being a cop, but even after this awful first day on the job, she knew in her gut this was the job she would be doing for the rest of her life. 

Tim had only been released from the hospital for a few hours when she found herself driving to his house, a casserole dish in the passenger seat. 

When Tim opened the door, Lucy tried to forget the last time she came through this door (it was memorable, considering her legs were wrapped around his waist-)

Anyway, he seemed surprised to see her, the look less guarded than she had seen it since their morning after. His eyes flitted from the casserole dish, to her face, and he spoke before she could open her mouth.

“You didn’t have to bring me anything.”

Lucy wanted to roll her eyes, but she suppressed the urge. 

“I wanted to,” Lucy said simply, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. “Can I come in?”

“Sure,” Tim blinked, and then moved aside so he could let her in. 

“Can I put this in your fridge?” Lucy asked, feeling out of place, and out of sorts (it didn’t help that every surface of this place had a memory attached; for god sakes she peeled her bra off of that lamp in the corner). 

“Yes, of course,” Tim’s surprise was replaced by a look she couldn’t read, that she recognized, from when Tim took statements at a scene,“Thanks.” 

“No problem,” Lucy muttered as she crossed the living room, placing the dish amongst take out and hot sauce. 

When she walked over to Tim, again, his arms were crossed, his face blank. 

He really wasn’t going to make this easy on her, was he? 

“So-” Lucy started, then stopped, trying to find the words she had so well rehearsed from the car ride over, but now seemed to have escaped her. 

“So,” Tim said in response. 

Asshole. 

“I know this is, difficult,” Lucy looked away from Tim’s hard gaze, trying not to stutter as she continued, “Between us, because, everything. But I was thinking. Things can’t keep going like that first day-”

“You know I can’t go easy on you-” Tim’s voice now had an edge to it, just like when they were in the shop together-

Lucy had to suppress the anger bubbling up in her chest. 

“I know that,” Lucy resisting the urge to roll her eyes as she said it. “I wouldn’t ever think you would.”

“Good,” That razor was still in his voice, and Lucy wanted to scream. 

Of course he couldn’t even make this easy on her-

“I thought that maybe we could be-”

“Friends?” Tim barked out a laugh. 

“Maybe-” Lucy swallowed back tears. 

She was not going to give him the satisfaction of seeing her cry. 

“I am not friends with my rookies.”

“You don’t usually sleep with your rookies either,” Lucy spit out, and in a moment of cruelty she added, “Sir.” 

Lucy didn’t like the part of herself that was satisfied by the shocked look on Tim’s face. 

“Don’t worry,” Lucy said, artificial smile across her face, “I’ll show myself out.” 

Lucy was proud of the fact that she didn’t cry until she was four blocks away from Tim’s house. 

❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁

They brokered a strange sort of stasis, when Tim came back. 

When he saw her, sitting up front with the other rookies, he still felt that spark through him. Just like he had when she had brought over lasagna, her hair long and wavy down her back, looking at him hopefully. He had wanted to keep the boundaries clear, wanted to make sure he didn’t slip and do something they would both regret (like kissing her, like dragging her towards him when she probably hated him, now). He had just hurt her instead, he knew he hurt her. Lucy had left, slamming the door behind, and that first day back on the job, he pretended everything was business as usual. 

He conducted his usual tests, which she usually passed, and barked orders that she usually followed. 

He was a touch too hard on her, and she was a touch too flipint. 

There was something burning, beneath the surface, that could easily be explained away as rage or contempt, at least on his end. 

He wanted things to be simple, but Tim feared that with Lucy, nothing was ever going to be simple. It was getting in the way. It was going to get them in trouble, the kind that couldn’t be easily remedied (the kind that ended in broken careers and body bags). 

Still, breaking the status quo had never been his strong suit (look at Isabelle, he could have confronted her that first week she was acting off, maybe things would have been different, maybe). 

So they kept riding together, kept taking calls, and that burning, became harder and harder to ignore. 

A few weeks into there barely brokered truce, Lucy was waiting by his truck in her street clothes, her arms crossed. 

She was in jeans and a zip up sweatshirt, her hair was wild from unbraiding the intricate bun that her hair was in from shift. 

She looked beautiful 

(She always looked beautiful).

“Lucy,” Tim said carefully, as a greeting, trying to keep that wall up that she was so good at knocking down. 

“We can’t pretend,” Lucy let out a shaky breath, “That nothing happened between us.” 

Lucy didn’t look him in the eye, and he was grateful for that, he didn’t think he could handle that; she would have seen right through him. 

“I know,” Tim muttered, “I know.” 

“I’m not saying we need to be friends,” Lucy raised her chin defiantly, “I know that you couldn’t stomach-”

“That’s not what I said.” Tim said quickly, feeling slightly queasy. 

“It’s basically what you said,” Lucy mumbled. 

“Maybe,” Tim let out a breath of his own, “Sorry.”

“You have to agree,” Lucy’s eyebrows scrunched together, “This can’t keep going like it’s going-”

“I do.” Tim could have pretended she was way off base. He could have thrown her a disdainful look, and drove away but-

She was right. He couldn’t pretend, anymore, that she wasn’t. 

“Then,” Lucy threw up her hands in frustration, “What the hell do you want-”

“Friends,” Tim looked away quickly, “Friends, sounds good.”

“Really?” Lucy sounded hopeful, and if she hadn’t already cracked him open, that sure did. 

“Friends,” Tim repeated, trying to find the words, but failing, “Or whatever.”

“Never thought I would see the day,” Lucy bit her lip, “Where I saw Tim Bradford looking bashful-”

Tim opened his mouth to speak, but Lucy interrupted him. 

“Friend’s tease each other Tim,” Lucy raised her hands, defensively, “And call each other by there first name-”

“I don’t call Bishop and Lopez by there first names-”

“That’s because your weird,” Lucy added quickly, “Which I can now say as your friend.”

“Fine,” Tim rolled his eyes, “But don’t try that when we are on duty.”

“So what does this mean,” Lucy tilted her head to the side, “Us being friends?”

“I don’t know,” Tim crossed his arm, feeling way, way out of his depth, “It was your idea.”

“I thought maybe you could stop actively hating me and-”

Lucy’s voice was light, but Tim felt her words like a punch to the gut. 

“I don’t hate you.”

How could anyone hate Lucy? She could be a pain in the ass, but that was only because she had the surest convictions of any rookie she had ever trained. She always tried to see the good in people, which could be annoying, but that could never make Tim hate her-

But wasn’t what he was trying to do: draw lines in the sand at any cost? Wasn’t one of those costs making Lucy hate him? If she hated him, wasn’t it going to be true that she thought he hated her right back?

“Acting like it then.” Lucy said evenly, giving him a look like he was a crime scene, and she was figuring it out.

“Fine,” Tim said, looking at his shoes, avoiding her gaze, “I can do that. But we are not friends on duty.”

“Your my teacher on duty,” Lucy said, looking through her eye lashes, making him flashback to the last time she had looked at him through her eye lashes. It was an innocent look, but still, it took all the self control in his body to not linger in the gutter. 

“Yes,” Tim nodded, feeling, not for the first time, like a total creep, “I am.” 

“Maybe we get beers sometimes,” Lucy shrugged, her fake all fake casualness, “In public. Jackson and Angela do sometimes.” 

Tim narrowed his eyes, he was pretty sure that Lopez had never taken a rookie for a casual beer. Then the suspicion fizzled and he realized, he didn’t want to call her out on her lie, even a little bit. 

“We can do that,” Tim said, and after a moment added, “Sometimes.” 

“Cool,” Lucy smiled, “We don’t have to have what happened-” 

Lucy started then stopped, her cheeks a bit more pink 

“That doesn’t have to define-” 

“Sure, Chen,” Tim said quickly, and then added when he saw the look on her face, “I mean Lucy.” 

“Good,” Lucy nodded, “Well I should head home, have to be back here, in what, twelve hours?”

Lucy gave an awkward little wave, and started to turn away. 

“Goodnight, Lucy,” Tim called after her. 

“You too,” Lucy turned back towards him and smiled that smile that always seemed to devastate him, “Tim.” 

As Tim drove home, he realized that conversation would either make everything going forward easier, or much, much harder. 

And, well, Tim had never been an optimist.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They had to be friends before they can be friends with benefits, right? 
> 
> I hope you enjoy this fic! The kudos, and especially comments really motivated me to get the second chapter out so fast, so if your enjoying this fic, please let me know!
> 
> Next chapters will feature angst, fluff, and fwb dynamics!
> 
> Have a good night, everyone, and stay safe out there!


	3. my foolish heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Friends, was easier than the awful purgatory of sexual tension and unbridled hate that they had previously spent their days swimming in. 
> 
> Well, sexual tension on Lucy’s side, anyway. 
> 
> OR 
> 
> Lucy and Tim try to be friends (they are either too good at it, or really, really bad)

Lucy walked away from Tim’s car, and it was like a weight was lifted off of her chest, and suddenly she could breathe again. 

This was good, Lucy told herself as her car creaked into gear and she made her way home, this was better. 

The next day, she came to work and it was better, between them. 

(It wasn’t as good as whatever they had been when they were making out in his car like a couple of teenagers; that wasn’t ever going to happen again, so she just needed to forget how he made her feel weightless). 

Friends, was easier than the awful purgatory of sexual tension and unbridled hate that they had previously spent their days swimming in. 

Well, sexual tension on Lucy’s side, anyway. 

Tim bit back some of his harsher remarks now, and Lucy didn’t roll her eyes as much (well, she waited until he couldn’t see her before rolling them, now). 

Their words had lost some of there edge, their conversations bordered on polite. There was still something, simmering beneath the surface at all times, but she carefully pushed that into the corner of her mind labeled ‘don’t even go there’. 

Lucy was still deeply, insanely attracted to Tim, (she could hardly blame herself, it really wasn’t fair that he looked like that). The night they spent together, despite trying to push the memories from her head, featured heavily in dreams that woke her up feeling like she ran a marathon, with the place between her legs throbbing. 

But, in her waking hours, she didn’t have to dwell on that night, didn’t have to notice how Tim looked in a uniform shirt, or punching a bag in station’s gym. 

She could make a choice, in how she spent her hours, and she wasn’t going to spend them day dreaming about Tim Bradford. 

(It happened like, once, maybe twice, but again, Lucy was only human). 

It would be different, maybe, if Tim looked at her like anything other than a rookie, but he didn’t. 

It was a blessing, she kept telling herself, that it was a blessing. 

She wondered how he could have shut off his attraction to her, (he had to have been attracted to her that night, right? They couldn’t have, he couldn’t have, if he didn’t feel-) 

Lucy almost always shut down these spiraling thoughts by telling herself that it didn’t matter, even if he still thought of her that way, nothing could come of it. 

It was easier, wasn’t it? That Tim wasn’t attracted to her, that he was able to shut that off as soon as he realized who she was. 

Maybe one day Lucy would be able to shut it off too, Lucy wondered wryly, if then Tim would finally think she was a good cop. 

All that mattered, though, was that it was better now. 

They even joked around sometimes, which was nice, but also bittersweet. 

In those moments she saw a ghost of the man she met in that bar, who had made her laugh so hard she had actually snorted. 

(Sometimes those moments were worse than the awful tension of before; it was like seeing a glimpse through the looking glass, where she had woke up and ate breakfast with this great guy, and a relationship followed; like she was the kind of girl who ended up with fairy tell endings). 

Instead they had a sometimes tense, sometimes cordial, sometimes wonderful thing between them. 

He would buy her a beer, sometimes, after work, just like she had suggested that night in the parking lot, pushing her luck, like she liked to do.

They never talked about that night, the night they met, or about their relationship (or lack their of). 

They would talk about the calls they took, or the cases from a few weeks before. Sometimes, he quizzed her from the Rook Book (he hardly had to look at that thing, he must of memorized it when he was a rookie). 

It was hard to admit it to herself, even when Tim was being an asshole, even during those weeks when he was an asshole 24-7, he was a really good T.O.. She was learning so much, and so quickly; it was like all of these things that she never had to think about before, were now embedded in her bones.

The dust settled, and they carved out a new normal. 

She was able to accept all of this, be okay with everything as it was, and then she was stuck with a needle. 

It would have been easier to deal with, if she hadn’t had so much time to spin out, and spin out she did. 

She spun out in the shop on the way to the hospital, and in the hospital room, that Tim had bullied a nurse into giving to her (she should have told him to cut the hospital staff some slack, but she had been focusing on remembering how to breathe). 

It said a lot about your day, when stopping a murder was not the most stressful part of her day. And Tim was there for that, too, talking her through it, his voice low and even. 

Jackson was with her, too. 

He sat with her, and he had held her hand, and not for the first time she was so thankful that he was assigned to the same division as her, thankful that he had sat next to her that first day of the Academy. 

He was the kind of guy, when he said everything was going to be okay, you believed him. 

He was the one to call Tim, after the doctor said she had staph. He arrived just as they strapped an IV to her arm, pumping her full of antibiotics. He sat next to her, and quizzed her on the Rook Book, and didn’t say anything when her eyes welled up. 

Tim was just, so steady, had been so steady, all day. 

Every moment was just another opportunity to learn, that was the only thing she had to focus on. She just had to learn how to be a good cop, and Tim was going to take care of the rest. 

What was it he said, when they first arrived at the hospital? After she tried to thank him?

“I’m just doing my job,” He had nodded, before, walking away. 

God, she was so thankful, in that moment, of how steady Tim was.

For once that wall he put up didn’t enrage her; that certainty, that mask of ‘cop’, it was grounding her too. 

When she got home, she made a beeline for the shower, and turned on the hot water to a temperature that could only be described as scalding. She stood under for a long time, before she realized it was going to take a lot more, to truly feel clean. 

When she got out of the shower, she had a text waiting for her. 

Nolan had invited her and Jackson, to come over for a late dinner and drinks. Part of her was tempted. Nolan’s house had one of the the best views she had ever seen in L.A., and more importantly, he still was one of her best friends, one of the people who was always guaranteed to make her laugh. 

She kept telling herself she should go over there, put the day behind her, spend time with friends who cared about her. 

Instead, she found herself texting back ‘rain check’, as she walked out the door, towards her car. 

She ignored the fact that she knew how to drive to Tim’s place without google maps. 

Her heart rate, which had seem to be stuttering rapidly since that morning, slowed as soon as Tim opened up the door. 

(It’s because he’s steady, Lucy told herself and half believing that it was the reason why she reacted to Tim, the only reason why.) 

“I know we said, drinks in public,” Lucy said as a greeting, “I just didn’t. I didn’t want to go home by myself.”

She could have gone over to see Jackson and Nolan (and Grace, probably), but she didn’t mention that. 

“Lucy,” Tim said quietly, and what Lucy would have given to be able to read him as easily as he seemed to read her. 

“Invite me in,” Lucy whispered, hoping for once, Tim wouldn’t make this difficult for her, “Please.” 

“Okay,” Tim nodded, and moved aside so she could walk inside, “Okay.” 

Lucy sat on his couch, and he got her a beer, popping of the cap, as he walked over. 

She reached out and took a sip, and then another, trying to figuring out what she should say, but nothing came. 

Tim didn’t say anything, either, so they ended up, just sitting together, not saying anything. They sat like that for what felt like hours, but was probably only minutes. Her heart rate slowed, and she could breath again. 

Nothing was ever easy with Tim, and yet the silence was easy. 

For the first time, all day, she felt like she could just close her eyes and breathe. 

Lucy woke up the next morning, in a drowsy fog, despite the uncomfortable cushions beneath her, it was the best night of sleep, since, well, the best night sleep in months.

After checking her phone, she let out a sigh of relief, she still had an hour before her next shift. It was only then, that she fully realized who’s couch she had fallen asleep on.

Not only was she on Tim’s couch, she had a fuzzy throw blanket across her legs, and a pillow tucked under her head.

Something warm bloomed in her chest, and for once she didn’t try to suppress it. Everyone needed to be taken care of, sometimes. 

Lucy slipped out, but not before she scrawled a note on a post it she found in the kitchen: 

Thanks, for everything.  
\- Lucy

❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁

Tim was quickly realizing that he wasn’t good at saying no to Lucy. 

Sure, it was easy when she asked to drive the shop, or to be the primary on an arrest. He could say no, then, easily (he sometimes looked forward to it, because Lucy would roll her eye’s, when he thought he wasn’t looking, which shouldn’t have been cute, but was). 

Whenever she asked for something that would cross the boundaries of to his carefully drawn lines in the sand, Tim always said yes. Yes to being friends, yes to getting drinks after work, and yes to drinking a beer on his couch after an awful day on the job. 

(She had seemed so tired, when she showed up on his door step, her hair still wet, in leggings and a threadbare UCLA sweatshirt; he couldn’t have said no, even if he had wanted to.)

Tim could have woken her up, when she fell asleep on his couch, given her a pep talk and sent her home. That was what he should have done, but instead he got her a blanket from the closet and pillow from his bedroom, and he had let her sleep. 

(She smiled in her sleep, and Tim wanted to reach out and tuck her hair out of her face, but he didn’t). 

Whenever Lucy asked for something real, he always said yes. 

That would be enough for Tim to loose sleep over, but then he couldn’t seem to stop himself from disregarding the carefully drawn lines, too. 

It was his idea, after all, to start running together before shift. 

What was a half thought out suggestion, turned into a routine; three mornings a week they would meet and run. They were well suited running partners; they both preferred shorter runs at a faster clip, they both pushed each other to run a little farther a little faster. 

Running was fine though, Tim reasoned, they didn’t have the chance to talk much, after all. Sure Lucy wore sports bras and high waisted leggings, like she was actively trying to make Tim have a heart attack. That was nothing, compared with seeing Lucy with pink high on her cheeks, and with an easy smile from the endorphins; it never failed to make him think of when he had made her look like that, with his fingers, his tongue, his- 

Anyways, running was fine.

If they had just been running partners, he could have convinced himself he was still keeping healthy boundaries between them. 

Their morning runs, however, soon turned into grabbing coffee together, more often then not. When they waited in line, they would talk about their upcoming day, or their previous night. Lucy would talk about eating dinner with her family the weekend before, and the how she was worried about Jackson and-

Tim’s carefully drawn lines were becoming close to nonexistent. 

They were acting like friends, Tim would remind himself not believing his own words for a second, this is how friends act. 

(Lucy might think of Tim as a friend, but he was falling, had been falling, hard). 

They were stretching, after a particularly long run a few weeks into their new routine, and Tim couldn’t shake a feeling that something was wrong. 

Lucy seemed off. 

(He knew when she was tired, or hungry, or hung over; he couldn’t stop himself from saying yes, and he couldn’t stop himself from noticing Lucy, intensely). 

When he finally asked her, how she was, he was really not prepared for her answer. 

“Everyone is dating someone,” Lucy tossed her pony-tale behind her shoulder, stretching so more of her toned stomach was in view, “That’s all.”

Tim looked away. 

“Everyone?” Tim tried to keep his voice light, friendly. 

Because they were friends. Because he agreed to be friends with the rookie that he had feelings for, for some reason he really couldn’t remember right now.

“Jackson,” Lucy shrugged, rolling her shoulders, “And Nolan.”

“Two people you know, are in a relationship and your in a bad mood now?”

As soon as he said it, Lucy’s face fell, and Tim felt like an asshole. 

“Never mind,” Lucy plastered on an artificial smile, “Do you want to go to that place on 2nd, or would you rather-” 

“Lucy,” Tim started but Lucy just crossed her arms, her expression hard. 

“Do you want to get coffee or not?”

“Just trying to understand,” Tim breathed out, “To be friendly or whatever.”

“Mhmm,” Lucy murmured, and Tim waited for a moment, before she spoke again. 

“It would just be nice, to have someone” Lucy looked at Tim, and for a moment all the lines had disappeared, “You know?”

“I do,” Tim nodded, “I get it.”

“Let’s go to the pace on 7th,” Lucy said quickly, starting to walk towards there cars, and Tim followed, after he let out a shaky breath, feeling a bit like he had just been suckered punched. 

Tim was really, really out of his depth, when it came to Lucy Chen. 

(As if he didn’t already know that, the second he saw her in that bar, looking around like the world was a puzzle she was destined to solve).


	4. no plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes she would open up her Tinder, and after one swipe, would put it away again. What was the point? Go on some lackluster date with a wannabe hipster, and pretend she wasn’t thinking about Tim when the third date came around? 
> 
> OR 
> 
> Sex doesn't have to involve feelings, or make things super complicated, right?

Grace had decided she wanted to throw a dinner party with all of Nolan’s friends from the Academy, and Lucy had almost gotten out of going when her car broke down, again. 

(After her probationary year, she might have to buy a new car, much to her chagrin). 

Of course, instead of taking her excuse at face value, Nolan, good guy he was, offered to drive her to his place, and Jackson, equally great, offered to take her home. 

And they were both so fucking sweet about it, she of course smiled and said yes. 

She was now in the passenger seat of Nolan’s pick up as he chatted brightly about the dinner he was making for everyone. 

God, tonight was going to be awful. 

Everyone who was going were going to be great, and the food sounded like it was going to be amazing, it’s just- 

Grace and Nolan were a couple, and Jackson was seeing someone, and even if he couldn’t make it because of a shift at the hospital, he still wasn’t single and that meant they were all getting to have sex. 

Like, often, probably. 

It was kind of mean to invite her, and make her the only single, celibate one at a party. She couldn’t just come out and say that, but it didn’t make it less true. 

She hadn’t had sex since Tim, and God, that night had probably ruined her. She even told him that, in a moment that Lucy cringed at now; they had just finished round three, maybe four and she just blurted it out, and he had laughed and pulled her back on top of him and-

Anyways. 

Sometimes she would open up her Tinder, and after one swipe, would put it away again. What was the point? Go on some lackluster date with a wannabe hipster, and pretend she wasn’t thinking about Tim when the third date came around? 

It was more than that, though, with Tim she had been so sure, so sure that everything would be okay. Who was to say that would be the same with some guy from the internet; she had known nothing about Tim, and yet with him things were always-

She always knew she was going to be okay. 

He was a hot head, more than kind of reckless, and he could be such a goddamn jerk, but-

She never felt unsafe, even when the world around them was uncertain, and unbelievably dangerous. 

He had her back. 

Dating someone, she didn’t know, it was scarier, then it had ever been before. 

Lucy shook her head, as though she could shake the thoughts from her head. 

“You okay?” Nolan asked, as they parked, “You seem kind of quiet.” 

“Long day,” Lucy plastered on her best ‘I’m fine face’, “I just need a drink and I’ll be fine.”

“That,” Nolan looked relieved, “I can help you with.”

It started out, okay. Just as promised, Nolan got her a glass of wine, almost as soon as she walked through the door, and Grace was there, her usual warm and funny self. They were talking about their days, and how work had been the last few weeks. She’s not even sure how Tim came up, and she didn’t even really say anything before Lucy found herself with an incredulous looking Nolan. 

“I don’t know why you are defending him,” He waived his hand around, and it would have been pretty funny, if she didn’t feel the begining prickling of annoyance,“All that guy does is torture you.”

Nolan didn’t even know Tim, Lucy wanted to say, where does he get off-

Wow, Lucy stopped herself before she could open her mouth, that was kind of an intense reaction. 

She was pretty sure she hadn’t been defending Tim, but maybe-

Lucy took a breath and recalibrated. 

“He’s calculating,” Lucy shrugged, trying to keep her face neutral, “Not cruel. I- I trust him.”

“Trust him,” Grace said, sipping her wine. “He was the guy who was with you at the hospital, when you were getting antibiotics, right?”

Lucy nodded, Grace was nice enough to check in on her after getting stuck by the needle, but she wasn’t sure how that had anything to do with-

“Interesting,” Lucy said, innocently 

“What’s interesting,” Lucy half laughed, not liking where this was going. 

“I get it,” Grace said, with an exaggerated wink, “Totally get it-”

“Am I missing something?” Nolan’s face was scrunched up in confusion.

“Always dear,” Grace said, patting Nolan’s hand, and Lucy snorted into her wine glass. 

Turns out, she really, really liked Grace. 

But the curious look the couple were now giving her, was making her feel hot under the collar. She was thankful that when Jackson came, she had a built in distraction.

“Jackson,” Lucy crossed the room quickly, and threw her arms around Jackson, “I’m really glad you are here.”

“Thanks?” Jackson said. 

The rest of the dinner went pretty smoothly after that, and the subject of Tim was dropped completely, which was a relief. They drank some wine, and ate steak and a salad with crazy good vinaigrette, and Jackson and Lucy embarrassed Nolan with lots of stories from the Academy. 

It was actually, really fun, and not for the first time she was grateful that she was going through their probationary year with two of them. 

She had actually forgotten about the whole uncomfortable until Jackson and Lucy were driving home. 

“What was going on when I arrived?” Jackson asked, about halfway to her apartment. 

“What do you mean?” Lucy said, trying to evade the question.

But of course, she was sitting in a car with another cop. 

“Lucy,” Jackson said incredulously, “You looked like you wanted to jump out the window, you looked so uncomfortable.” 

“Oh, that,” Lucy took a breath, before continuing, “Everyone was talking shit about Tim, I mean Bradford, and it didn’t seem fair, and then Grace thought-”

“That you two were super into each other,” Jackson surmised. 

Lucy bit her lip, she didn’t love how quickly Jackson came to that conclusion. 

“Yah,” Lucy let out a shaky breath, trying to make her voice as light and airy as possible, “Which is like, so not true so. You know, it was uncomfortable.” 

“You sound really convincing,” Jackson rolled his eyes, “How long have you been hooking up, be honest-”

“What,” Lucy spluttered, “Were not. Not now, I mean there was that one time before we even graduated from the Academy, but I didn’t know who he was and-”

Jackson’s breaks squealed, as he stopped from running a red light in the last possible moment.

“Shit,” Jackson’s eyes went wide, “I was joking.”

“Oh.” Lucy felt light headed. 

“You,” Jackson said slowly, and Lucy felt every syllable, in her bones, “And Bradford.”

“Oh no.” Was all Lucy could say.

When Lucy finally looked at Jackson, he looked gobsmacked; it would have been funny if she didn’t feel like she was going to pass out. 

“Seriously?”

Lucy could handle this, she would back pedal, she would leave this car with Jackson thinking everything was fine and normal-

“Just once, I mean more like four times,” Lucy kept going, hoping to dig herself out of the whole, but she just kept making it worse, “But I mean, like one night. Nothing, nothing at all since then. As soon as we knew that I was going to be his rookie, we didn't. Nothing. I mean, sometimes I think, like if we weren’t at the station, maybe something would have happened, but we are so. He doesn’t even think of me that way, anymore, I’m like a sex-less, rookie to him so. Yah, nothing.” 

When Lucy finally stopped to take a breath, she realized she just made everything worse. 

Like, a lot worse. 

“Wow,” Jackson said, as he pulled in front of her building, sounding pretty shell shocked, “Okay, that was a lot of information. I need to take a moment to process.”

“Yah, that tracks,” Lucy winced, “Sorry.”

Jackson turned off the engine, and they sat in silence for a few minutes. 

Just as Lucy was about to utter another muttered apology, and run straight into her building, Jackson started talking. 

“Well,” Jackson fixed her with a serious expression, “Okay a couple things. I want to be clear that I am not condoning anything, and I am not also suggesting you do, anything-”

“Okay,” Lucy nodded. 

Jackson was silent for another long moment. 

“You okay?” Lucy asked. 

“Not really,” Jackson, stretched back his shoulders jerkily, like he was trying to shake something off, “I shouldn’t be saying this. I should really be keeping my mouth shut, but, Bradford is still super into you.”

“He is not.” Lucy said quickly, “I am like an annoying rookie, that’s all. Basically a little sister to him-”

“God I hope that’s not how he looks at his sister-”

“Jackson!” Lucy’s eyebrows shot up, and she almost felt like laughing. 

“He like, stares at you,” Jackson shot her a dark look, “Broodingly.”

“That’s not-”

“And I have caught him looking at your ass,” Jackson looked vaguely disgusted, “Twice.”

“I don’t,” Lucy stopped then started again, “I don’t know what to do with that information.”

“I don’t know either,” Jackson shrugged, “But he doesn’t look at you like a sex-less Rookie, or whatever you said.” 

“Okay,” Lucy whispered, more to herself than to Jackson. 

“Yah,” Jackson threw her a smile,“ I need to go home and wash my brain.” 

“Whatever,” Lucy let out a hollow laugh. 

“Just,” Jackson fixed her with his serious expression, once again, “Be careful with this information. This could really go sideways, for both of you.” 

“Okay,” Lucy grabbed her purse, still feeling a little bit light headed, “Thanks, Jackson.”

Lucy walked up the stairs to her apartment, instead of the elevator, hoping by the time she made it to her door, she would come up with a plan. An easily digestible answer to all the questions buzzing in her head. 

So, maybe she was wrong; maybe Tim was still attracted to her. 

And she was still, attracted to him. 

(To say the least) 

This new information didn’t need to change anything, right? They were friends, now, and that was good, that was better. 

But friends could have sex and that didn’t have to mean, anything more than the fact that they were attracted to each other, right. 

God, the idea that she could sleep with Tim again, and then just ride together like nothing happened, was so tempting. 

There was no way Tim would go for it though, for all his bluster he was by the book, all the way. 

Still, if she brought it up, it would be nice, to have someone. 

In her bed, of course, not like a relationship, or anything. 

Sex didn’t have to mean anything, other than sex, right?

❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁

Tim was pretty sure he used to be intimidating. He had bounced half a dozen rookies from the program (all for good reasons, but still). He was tough before he was fair; that’s how the best cops were built. 

He wasn’t sure that he was intimidating before, and he was pretty sure that this was a problem. 

Plain clothes day was a perfect example. He was supposed to be the one with the mind games (for the purpose of making good cops, of course), and Lucy played right back, leaving him with her and the other rookies bar tab, to add insult to injury. 

(Lucy looked at him, like she was about to burst out laughing, sometimes. Like she saw through his whole T.O. act).

Of course, Lucy always seemed to have it figured out, even when she had no idea what the hell was going on. 

It was annoying. 

(Sexy, and annoying.)

It was more annoying that he couldn’t seem to stay angry at her. Even when he arrived home, after paying her and her friends bar tab, to find Lucy on his front porch, with a bottle of tequila. 

(Especially, when she was sitting on his porch, grinning ear to ear, because he had finally had shown up).

As soon as he got out of her car, Lucy jumped up. 

“I brought Tequila,” Lucy said, brandishing the bottle,“To apologize about the whole bar tab thing.”

“It’s fine,” Tim said, and he was surprised he actually meant it, “It was actually pretty funny.”

“Really?” Lucy looked nothing short of delighted “I thought you were going to be a jerk about it.” 

“Lucy-”

“I mean you can be,” Lucy said it with no malice in her voice, “A jerk sometimes. A cute jerk, but-

Tim’s grin got widder. 

“Mhhm.” Tim was starting to add up a few things, “Did you start drinking without me, boot?”

“Maybe,” Lucy shrugged, “I mean I like tequila more than you, so…”

Tim laughed.

“I needed a little liquid courage,” Lucy stage whispered, “To ask, what I wanted to ask.” 

“And what’s that,” Tim raised his eyebrows, “Boot.” 

“Friends, don’t let friends call each other boot,” Lucy rolled her eyes, “Tim.” 

“Whatever you say,” Tim leaned against the beam holding up his porch, “Lucy.”

Lucy bit her lip, and took another swig of the glass bottle of Tequila. 

“I really like being friends-”

“Good.”

Lucy stopped for a moment, when he said that. She looked at him through her eyelashes, and he was gone. 

“But like, I never have time,” Lucy kept starting and stopping, and he couldn’t quite make out if it was the alcohol or if she just didn’t know what to say next, “And you and me, we have history. I mean, adding one more thing, or aspect, to like not our relationship, our friendship, wouldn’t-”

“Spit it out,” Tim interrupted, and hoping to annoy her a bit, added, “Boot,” 

“I want to have sex,” Lucy said in one breath, “As friends. Friends who have sex.” 

And then as though Lucy was trying to give him a heart attack, she kissed him. It was slow, and almost sweet, but not quite; one hand was on the back of his neck, and she was bringing him down, down. He could fall into her, he could reach out, and pull her close, and feel her body close to his. 

But could taste the tequila on her lips, and that finally gave him the push he needed; he pulled away. 

She was drunk, and he couldn’t-

“Lucy,” Tim said, because he didn’t know what else to say, “We can’t”.

“You don’t want-,” Lucy looked stricken, “Oh, fuck, you didn’t want to-”

“Lucy-”

“I am such an idiot,” Lucy said, placing the tequila by the door, “I’ll just go. You can have that. Not that you even like tequila that much, but-” 

“I’m not saying, no,” Tim heard himself saying it, before he even realized he was, “I’m saying not now.”

Lucy looked at him curiously. 

Tim knew, in that moment, that it wasn’t that he couldn’t say no to Lucy, it was that he didn’t want to.

He wanted, so badly, to just say yes. Yes, to more, even when it hurt. 

Even, when, he was sure it was going to hurt. 

“Not now,” Lucy said slowly, like she was catching up (which she probably was, tequila was dangerous that way). 

“Because you're drunk.” 

“I am a little bit,” Lucy said, slowly, like she was just realizing it for herself, “Aren't I?”

Lucy looked like she was going to protest for a moment, but then she shrugged. 

“Maybe.” 

And then, Lucy started laughing. 

Tim smiled, despite himself. 

“Why don’t I drive you home,” Tim started walking towards his car, and he was relived when she followed. 

It was comfortable, the drive to her place. It shouldn’t have been; he should have felt keyed up, nervous, or something else, indescribable. 

He shouldn’t have felt steady. 

“Okay,” Tim said, as he pulled in front of her building. 

“Okay,” Lucy said, opening her eye’s and shooting him a lazy grin. 

Lucy kissed Tim and this time he lets himself fall into it, as she threw her arms around his neck and pulled him in. It was sweeter than before, but it wasn’t perfunctory. It wasn’t a kiss that was meant to start anything, it was a goodbye, or a hello, or something he didn’t know yet. 

He really didn’t know Lucy very well, after all. 

This time, she was the one who pulled away. 

“Just checking,” Lucy breathed out, there mouths still only inches apart. 

“Just checking?” Tim repeated, sounding breathless. 

“Yah,” Lucy said, her eyebrows scrunched together, and for a second their foreheads touched, “That, that one night wasn’t a fluke.”

“We already kissed at my place,” Tim didn’t know why he was bothering to argue but-

He wanted to know, why. 

(Why did Lucy kiss him, why did she want to, why-) 

“Mhhmm,” Instead of looking bashful, Lucy just looked pleased with herself, “Maybe I just wanted to kiss you.”

“You are drunk,” Tim said like it explained anything. 

“Maybe,” Lucy giggled “But you kissed me back, and you are stone cold sober.” 

Lucy kissed him on the cheek and tossed back a ‘bye Tim’ before she ran inside. He waited until he saw her get into the elevator, before he started his car, and made his way home. 

He was sure that this whole think was going to end very, very badly, and he was also sure that he was going to enjoy the entire way down.


	5. want to be felt by you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I was drunk,” Lucy blushed, her voice getting higher and higher, “And you kissed me back, so-”
> 
> “What is your plan,” Tim interrupted her, but his voice was even, steady, “Lucy.”
> 
> OR 
> 
> How Lucy and Tim create a plan to be friends with benefits, and are really bad at it.

When Lucy woke up she felt vaguely pleased with herself, kicking the covers off; it was a little too warm, but it was lovely to wake up on her own, and not by an alarm (it was one of those fluke days off that had become her salvation). She stretched up, eyes still closed, with the sun from her window on her face, and she thought how nice it was to be kissed- 

Lucy opened her eyes, and the previous night hit her like a freight train. 

Did she really do that? Not only had she stuck Tim with the bar tab (which she did totally sober), she had waited on his front porch, got drunk on said porch, and then asked her T.O. to be a friend with benefits. 

And then she kissed him. 

Twice. 

The light was harsh on her eyes, and her head pounded, and her stomach was twisting and turning (all though that she was pretty sure had more to do with the memories of last night, and not the copious amount of tequila that she consumed). 

Then before a true sense of panic could set in she remembered one, very important detail of the night before: Tim kissed her back, twice. 

She breathed in and out, a few times, and her pulse slowed. Her head was still pounding, and the sun was still to bright, but her stomach had settled. 

She had been meaning to talk to Tim about the possibility of being friends with benefits, ever since that conversation with Jackson a week before. She hadn’t been planning on being that direct about it, though. 

(She had really been planning on just hinting at it, and then when he hadn’t gotten the hint, declaring that Jackson had been wrong, and Tim really wasn’t interested in her, like that, after all).

But she had been direct, and she had gotten an answer. Well, kind of. 

What did, “not no, not now,” really mean, anyways? 

If her head wasn’t swarming with ‘what ifs’ maybe she could have waited to find out, but she felt like she was buzzing out of her skin every second she didn’t know. 

She winced as she got out of bed, closed the curtains tighter to get rid of the stream of sunshine, and got dressed. 

Lucy showed up at Tim’s door, with sunglasses, her favorite pair of leggings that had a rip near her ankle, and a messy bun. She sure she looked disgusting, but she figured if her and Tim were doing this, they might as well be as transparent as possible. 

(Sure, Lucy couldn’t admit she had a massive crush on Tim, but she wasn’t going to pretend she looked great every god damn moment of the day; plus, Tim had seen her hour 14 on the job, so she really wasn’t guessing hung over was going to be a deal breaker). 

Tim opened the door after she had only had the chance to knock once, and he looked her up and down, and started to laugh. 

“You look-”

“Gorgeous, I know,” Lucy dead panned, but she felt a little self conscious none the less. 

Of course Tim actually looked gorgeous, like he had 12 hours of sleep and was ready to go for a run (which, knowing Tim, he probably was). 

(For such a typical cop, he was unfairly pretty, not that she would ever say that, to his face anyway). 

She wanted to climb him like a tree, but thoughts like that weren’t helping the whole ‘boundaries’ and ‘having a plan’ thing.

“I was going to say,” Tim leaned against the doorway, “Like you had fun last night.”

He was flirting, Lucy realized, and it sent a shock down her spine. She forgot that he could flirt, that his teasing could turn her inside out. 

(God, he was so charming that first night; he was actually charming a lot of time, usually at the same time as he was intimidating and gruff). 

“Well, I did,” Lucy tilted her head to the side, trying not to smile, “You did, too, if I remember correctly.”

Tim just smiled wider. 

“That’s not why, I came,” Lucy bit her lip, trying to keep a level head, but feeling foggier by the second, “We need a plan.”

Tim raised an eyebrow.

“We do?” Tim shot her a look that was part T.O, part ‘guy I met in a bar’, (and all Tim), “Because when you kissed me, you didn’t seem to be to worried about it.”

Lucy wanted to groan, of course Tim was having fun with her embarrassment, true to form. 

“I was drunk,” Lucy blushed, her voice getting higher and higher, “And you kissed me back, so-”

“What is your plan,” Tim interrupted her, but his voice was even, steady, “Lucy.”

“We are friends, first,” Lucy said, her hands digging deeper into her sweatshirts pockets, “Friends outside work, and T.O/Rookie on the job. We don’t make this weird or relationship-y. We are attracted to each other, and it could be fun, but um, it doesn’t have to be weird and heavy or whatever. We can break this off whenever, date other people, with no hard feelings.”

Tim took a moment and regarded her, but she could feel him closing off, turning into her T.O. and not her friend- 

(Not the guy whose tongue had been in her mouth the day before). 

Lucy tried to suppress her disappointment. This is what she wanted, she wanted a boundaries, that was the purpose of the plan.

It was better this way. 

“Sure,” Tim said, and then he paused before continuing, “Boot- Lucy. I just ended a marriage, you know that. We don’t need to make either of our lives more complicated then they already are.”

Tim had mentioned Isabelle, off handed on one of their runs. Lucy knew she used to be a cop, and was in New York now, and they had been divorced for 6 months. She was itching to ask more, but with Tim, she was finding, it was better not to push her luck. 

He would tell her, or he wouldn’t, if she pushed to hard, he would just shut down. 

She did that too, if someone tried to push her to talk, when she didn’t want to, she would run the other direction. She avoided Rachel for a month in college, after her asshole ex-boyfriend cheated on her. Rachel, well meaning, wanted to know how she felt, and what she was going to do, and Lucy just wasn’t ready; she felt like an open wound, and she needed time to heal before she could be vulnerable, once again. 

So Lucy didn’t pry, and instead nodded. 

“But there is something here,” Tim said, and Lucy felt her breath caught in her throat, “I mean we have something between us, that night is proof of that. We could have a lot of fun, and your right it doesn’t have to be complicated.”

Lucy swallowed her disappointment that she had no right to feel. 

It was her idea, being friends with benefits, after all. 

“But we are careful,” Tim continues, his voice firm, “We could impact both our careers, so we are careful.” 

“Okay,” Lucy nodded, trying to soak up his words, “Okay.”

“Okay?” Tim repeated. 

She nodded. 

“Well,” Tim looked her up and down again, but he was clearly not thinking about anything even remotely PG-13, let alone R rated, “Are we still running today, or are you too hung over?”

“I can run!” Lucy said quickly, despite her bodies many protests. 

She did have her sneakers in the car, and she wasn’t going to live it down if he knew she couldn’t go for there usual three mile loop. 

(Thank god she had thrown on a sports bra, this morning she couldn’t deal with underwire). 

“You going to throw up?” He asked mildly. 

“Like,” Lucy winced slightly, “Only a 30 percent chance. Maybe 40.”

“Alright,” Lucy could tell Tim was suppressing a laugh, “Let’s go.” 

❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁

Lucy came over, the night after the tequila and confessions, and outlined a plan. For once, Lucy was the one placing boundaries on all of this, and not the one pushing him out of his comfort zone. It should have made him feel relieved, but it was just kind of a dull feeling. Of course she wanted to be no more than friends who had sex. He knew she had a good time that one night (she had told him, much to his delight, several times). Tim had been a jackass ever since, the fact that she wanted to be friends at all was a minor miracle-

He agreed, because, of course he did. 

(He shouldn’t have, his career would survive this, if people found out, but hers wouldn’t; he really could be a selfish bastard. He had always had disdain for weak cops, cops who didn’t do the work that needed to be done, what he was doing, was much worse.) 

But, how could he say no, to getting to be with her?

He always wanted her, even with her over sized sunglasses and a hungover scowl; she really had looked adorable, rumpled and annoyed at him, standing on his front porch telling him exactly how it was going to be. 

She was beautiful in and out of uniform. In any clothes, and beautiful naked as the day she was born-

There was just something about her, that undid him. It was more than attraction, more then admiration, more then friendship. But he put that thought away, far away, in the back of his head. 

They made a plan and then they went running, and they were back of work. 

And things were eerily normal. They were T.O and rookie. They were friends. Sometimes she looked at him, curiously, like she was trying to figure him out (he ignored it, hoping that his thoughts were just his own). 

And Tim waited, for Lucy to kiss him, again. 

(He wanted to kiss her all the time, but he was going to give her an out, he wasn’t that much of a bastard that he wouldn’t give her an out)

He was beginning to think that the entire night with tequila, and the morning with the hangover (for Lucy, anyways), was only in his head, when she showed up at his house with a six pack of beer (the same micro beer that he had in his fridge already), a week later. 

He had barely put the beers in his fridge, than Lucy had hoped onto his counter, and was regarding with that tilted head of hers. 

It was like she could see straight through him, and she knew everything that he wanted. 

(God, she was dangerous)

“You want to kiss me?” Lucy said, before biting her lip. 

Always, he always wanted to kiss her. 

Instead of saying that, though, he just nodded. 

“Yes”, Tim said, and he couldn’t believe how shaky his voice sounded. 

“Are you going to then,” Lucy tossed her hair over her shoulder, “Or not-”

“Brat,” Tim mumbled, before kissing her, hard. 

He could drown in her. 

He could drown in the way she scratched her nails down his neck, and wrapped her legs around his waist, like she desperately wanted him closer. He could swim in the the quiet murmured curse words and the breathless laughs, and the outright giggle of when he dropped her on his bed and she bounced, twice. He was drowning in the way her skin felt, under his hand, and how every article of closing removed was like getting just a little closer to heave. If he could have drowned in a sound, he would have in the sound she made when she came, half whine, half gasp, like she was a little bit surprised by it. 

How she always seemed to want more, and told him exactly what she wanted. 

(He wanted, more and more more. 

Insatiable. That was the only way he could describe it, he was insatiable.)

She didn’t leave his bed until it was after 1:00. She grabbed her clothes, and mumbled something about boundaries, and he hated seeing her walk out the door. 

But he didn’t stop her. 

(Sometimes, for a cop, he could really be a coward). 

When he saw her, the next morning at roll call, she turned around and shot him a bright, friendly smile, like he hadn’t been inside her ten hours before. 

They started a routine.

They would go to work, and he would put her through his usual drills and tests, as they took all the hardest calls. They ran together, at least three times a week, and had beers the same amount of nights. 

The beers, fell into the background, however, and they fell into bed (always at his house, and Lucy always left before they could fall asleep). 

There were boundaries, there were different roles that they played, and yet work and life outside it didn’t always fit cleanly into those two boxes. 

One night, a few weeks after their new normal, Lucy didn’t bring beers, or chat about her day, or any other usual small talk. 

She was on him, from the second he opened the door, and Lucy him into his own room, like she owned the place. She left scratches down his back, and she didn’t stop him from making her come twice with his hands, before he finally entered her, and he tried not to feel too proud of himself, when it made her eye’s roll back in her skull. 

It was hot, and fast, and it was like being caught in a tornado that was all her.

It was only after they were catching there breath, and Lucy was wrapping the sheets, around her, as she sat up, that he could get a few words in.

“Are you okay?” Tim asked, as he sat up too, and Lucy didn’t quite meet his eyes. They hadn’t ridden together today, she had been with Bishop. If she had done something, if something had happened to Lucy-

“Do I not seem okay?” Lucy ran her fingers through her already unruly hair. 

“Answering a question with a question,” Tim fixed her with a hard stare, “Cute, but not an answer.”

“I just,” Lucy let out a shaky breath, “Wanted to turn off my brain, you’re good at that.”

“Thank you?” Tim asked, not quite sure what to do with that casually said statement. 

“It’s a compliment,” Lucy threw him a crooked half smile, “And you know it.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” Tim said, trying not to feel to self satisfied, or get distracted from the point of this conversation, which was-

“Are you my friend right now,” Lucy said, scrunching up the sheets in her hand, before smoothing them out again, “Or my T.O.”

“Friend.” Tim said quickly. 

“My dad hates me,” Lucy whispered, almost to herself, more than him. 

“Why?” Tim asked, before he could really think about it. 

Maybe he should have said ‘no one could hate you’, but he knew that it wasn’t true. Even if he couldn’t understand how anyone could hate Lucy, with her capacity to care, her determination, her smile, her-

He couldn’t understand it, but he knew, from personal experience, it didn’t matter how good a person you were, how much you wanted to be accepted, how hard you tried, it wouldn’t be enough. 

Look at his marriage to Isabelle or his deteriorated relationship with his own father.

To his relief, Lucy just smiled, a sad sort of smile. She was shooting him that x-ray look she was so good at, and he knew, without her saying it, that she new exactly what he was trying to say. 

“Well it started when I got a call,” Lucy tucked some hair behind her ear, “When I was with Bishop.” 

Lucy told him, the whole tragic comedy of the day. Her father, upset that she arrested his assailant. Trying to win back his favor, by filing an extra report, for a mental wellness addendum. 

There was things that she wasn’t saying too, the things he could read clearly on her face. The hurt of her father not respecting her career, her choices. The awful helplessness of always trying to do the right thing, and someone you love insisting that you were the villain of this story.

Tim just, listened, to what she said, and what she didn’t say. 

He didn’t say anything, until Lucy stopped talking, (he gave her a minute to start again, before he opened his mouth). 

“I’m sorry,” Tim said simply, and he was. 

It was like something cracked, and Lucy’s eyes welled up. 

“Thanks,” Lucy wiped at her eyes, catching a few tears before they could fall, “For listening.” 

If she asked him for something, he would give it, always. He wanted to fix her day, repair it so she didn’t have to feel all this pain, confusion, and guilt. If he could wipe it all away, he would in a second. 

But he couldn’t, so of course he listened. 

“Of course,” Tim cleared his throat, “We are friends, right?”

“Yah,” Lucy smiled, “We are.” 

For once her eye’s seemed not see through him, and it looked like she believed him. That they were friends, and she looked grateful for it. 

It wasn’t just sex or friendship. It was never going to be just sex and friendship. 

At least not for Tim.


	6. lighting up the place

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For a guy who gave her an evaluation daily, he had the disarming ability to make her feel at ease. 
> 
> OR 
> 
> How growing closer makes everything more complicated.

Lucy shouldn’t have felt so comfortable with Tim, lying next to him in his house, in his bed. She should have been on edge, ready to dart (which was totally her M.O.), but she wasn’t, which was weirding her out at this point. 

It wasn’t just that Lucy was bad at relationships (which she was, fortunately or not,), but this was about Tim, too. He cultivated this T.O persona that was almost larger then life, and that was the point of Tim’s whole training philosophy, right? She should be on edge at all times, ready to react; it was supposed to make her a better cop. 

And she was always on the edge of her seat, when she was in the shop. When Lucy was on the job she was always waiting for what came next, the next call, the next test. When she was out of uniform, and off the job, he was becoming the person who it was easiest to be around. 

Even if she wasn’t waiting for danger when they went for a run, or fell into bed, there should be some over lap, right? 

She should have wanted to impress him maybe, be the funniest, the sexiest, whatever. But, for a guy who gave her an evaluation daily, Tim had the disarming ability to make her feel at ease. 

Here she was, stretching her legs out under really nice sheets, and she didn’t feel like she had anything to prove. 

(Who knew Tim would be a nice sheet guy; she would have guessed he would be all about cheap scratchy ones, based on his opinion on air conditioners, alone). 

She should have been itching to leave, but that was becoming the hardest part of their routine, leaving instead of staying. So she started staying, a little later each time, like maybe he wouldn’t push her away if she over stayed her welcome in stages (and usual if she stayed in bed they would end up crashing into each other, again, and he wouldn’t notice that she was avoiding going back to her own bed). 

She wasn’t getting a lot of sleep, but she tried not to focus on that (there was not a lot that could convince her to give this up). 

She blamed it on the sex, even though she knew her big, fat, inconvenient crush was at least part of the reason she hated to go. It had never been this good for her with anyone else. It wasn’t just their chemistry (which was so intense, it bordered on scary and honestly was distracting 90% of the time) or all the orgasms (which were like, a lot, kind of obscene amount- she was pretty sure Tim had an obsession with making her toes curl), but it just felt right, too. 

She just felt so good here in his bed, like it was where she was supposed to be.

It was a month into their new arrangement, and as she lay in his bed (not wanting to head home quite yet, wondering how long she could stay without things becoming weird), when she realized that she might have the same exact effect on Tim; that she might make him feel at ease, too. 

Tim was quieter then usual, not that he was usually a chatter box (she was thankful that nothing happened with her in Nolan, at this point; she loved her friend but he would have talked her to death after the first week). 

Usually the silence’s that stretched out were comfortable, and this one wasn’t uncomfortable exactly, but Lucy just had a feeling that Tim wanted to say something, but wasn’t. 

“You are thinking awfully hard over there,” Lucy said, rolling onto her stomach, the sheet shifting down as she did, “What’s up?”

He looked momentarily distracted by the expanse of her back, that the sheet was not covering (she tried not to gloat, too much, anyways), before he spoke. 

“I think I want to take the sergeants exam,” Tim wasn’t quite meeting her eye, and she had to bite back her first instinct to tease; he looked vulnerable, like she was going to tell him it was an awful idea. 

(Lucy felt a pang in her stomach as she realized that was exactly what he was expecting; she might make him a bit more at ease, but he was still sure she was going to hurt him, just like everyone else). 

“Yah,” Lucy propped herself on his pillows, a little higher, to get a better look at him. “You’d be great.”

Tim threw her a look that said he thought otherwise. 

“I’m serious,” Lucy insisted, trying to catch his eye, “You would be.”

Tim finally looked at her, hope flitting across his face, and in that moment he looked younger then usual.

“I haven’t decided-” Tim said quickly, and Lucy knew he was ready to talk himself out of it. 

“You should do it,” Lucy grabbed his hand and squeezed. Tim looked uncertain again, and she dropped her hand quickly. 

Holding hands is relationship-y, Lucy reminded herself, not what friends do-

(Not that friends usually do what they were doing 20 minutes before, but-)

“I can help you study,” Lucy turned on her brightest smile, “I am such a good study partner-”

“You are way to happy,” Tim interrupted her, but he was smiling now, too, “About the prospect of you, me, and a study guide.”

Lucy laughed at that, before inching towards him. 

“I don’t know,” Lucy bit his collarbone teasingly, and she heard Tim take a quick breath, “We could make it fun.”

Lucy looked up, and she knew he got her full meaning. 

“You are such a nerd,” Tim shook his head, but he tucked Lucy’s hair behind her ear, as he said it.

“Careful,” Lucy pouted, looking up at him through her eye lashes “Do you want me to take strip-flash cards off the table.”

“No mam,” Tim said, all fake seriousness. 

“Jerk,” Lucy hit him with a pillow, “And don’t call me mam.”

“Okay,” Tim paused, “Boot.”

“Tim!” Lucy shrieked, but she was laughing too, as Tim brought her face down and kissed her thoroughly. 

If he was a sergeant, Lucy realized on her drive home later (two rounds later but who was counting, Lucy, Lucy was counting), he couldn’t be my T.O. 

She didn’t know how to feel about that. 

Could she do this job, without Tim beside her?

If he was stationed somewhere else, would they drift apart, or would she be able to say that she wanted more, she had always wanted more?

Lucy tried to banish these questions to a corner of her mind that she didn’t visit often. 

It didn’t work. 

❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁

Tim really didn’t like to admit when he was wrong. He would go out of his away to avoid it, far, far out of the way. If he was going to really get into the nitty gritty of his own faults, it would be high on the list. 

So when Lucy said he would love paint ball, after going to a paintball park on the job, and he fervently disagreed, he became almost instantly determined to hate it. 

But Lucy dragged him out on one of their few days off, equally determined to prove him wrong (if he was going to make of list of the things he admired about Lucy, which would be an embarrassingly long and well thought out one, tenacity would be very high up). 

So he went, and they played, and the two of them were, unsurprisingly very, very good. During an out of breath reprieve in one of the less then sturdy shacks, with only two teams left before victory, he had to admit, this was actually pretty fun. 

“You are going to tell me that your are not having fun, now?” Lucy said, one hand on her hip and a paintball gun in the other, looking both smug and adorable (maybe adorably smug? Sexy while adorably smug?)

“It’s whatever,” Tim shrugged, loving the look of outrage on Lucy’s face. 

“Mhhm,” Lucy leaned her fake weapon against the un-sturdy wall. 

She threw her arms around Tim’s neck, and kissed him once, soft, before biting his lip, teasingly. 

“You having fun now?” Lucy said, all fake seriousness as she walked him towards the flimsy wood behind him, until he felt his back hit something solid. 

He put down his own gun and hauled Lucy up, her legs around his waist, so he could kiss her properly. 

“So much fun,” Tim said, before he tried to drown in her. 

When they broke away Lucy giggled, actually giggled, and if he wasn’t so charmed he would have given her shit. 

Lucy hopped down, half graceful but almost tripping over the uneven floorboards, too, before grabbing her paintball gun. 

“Come on,” Lucy said, her chin up, that look of determination back in her eyes, “I’m not losing to these idiots.” 

Lucy shot him a smile, before heading out the door. 

Tim followed, like usual. 

❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁

They were on there usual morning run, when a wave of something akin to nausea coursed over Lucy. 

She stopped, with a few half hearted paces, before putting her hands on her knees, trying to take deep breaths before she started to hyperventilate. 

This pang, this awful feeling burrowing in her chest wasn’t a hang over, or the flu, or anything she was used to-

She had flashes of Nolan’s brutalized face, the shoot out, the funeral-

Flashes of riding with Anderson, of conversations in the break room, of her sure and righteous presence at Roll Call-

It was grief, and it had been easier, and then it wasn’t and then it was. 

(It was almost harder when she wasn’t thinking about it, when she remembered and she felt terribly, horribly guilty. ) 

“Lucy,” Tim’s voice was sharp, concerned, and it just made her feel worse. 

Tim’s hand was on her shoulder, and it was only then that her breaths evened out, and she was able to take her hands off her knees. 

“It has been a month since the funeral,” Lucy said, her voice masquerading as harsh, “I shouldn’t be thinking about it now.”

“You know it doesn’t work like that,” Tim said, both hands on her shoulders now, looking her dead in the eye “You were a psych major, boot.”

She should have been annoyed that he was playing at being her T.O, not her friend, or whatever they were in between his sheets (and on the counter, and couch and-)

It just settled her, in a way she couldn’t completely understand or rationally explain. 

“Anderson was always really good to me,” Lucy whispered. 

“She was a good cop,” Tim nodded, “A great captain.”

“She thought I was going to be a good cop,” Lucy felt like she was cracked open and raw; it felt so childish to admit, but another female cop, her captain, thinking well of her-

It had meant the world to Lucy, and now she was gone, and it was like that bit of hope was gone, too. 

“You are going to be a good cop,” Tim said quietly, and she actually believed him. 

Lucy smiled, it wasn’t the same, but it was something. 

More than something. 

“Yah?” Lucy asked. 

“Yah.” Tim said as an answer.

“Where do you put it?” Lucy wondered, hoping Tim might have some insight she didn’t, “Where do you put the grief?” 

“I’ll tell you,” Tim said, with a half smile, “If I find it.”

Lucy nodded, and for whatever reason, that was as good an answer as any. 

She wished he would find that place, even more than she wished it for himself, it wasn’t fair, that he had so much to grieve. 

❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁

God, Tim thought, this had to be top 10 times he had felt like an asshole, and that was quite a long list.

He had rules for his rookies, and he stood by them. They worked, too when the brass and bureaucracy stayed the hell out of it. 

Now, he was regretting not following Bishop’s lead and having Lucy be primary, day one. It got worse, as the shifts went on. Lucy, who usually wasn’t nervous (even when she probably should have been), was just about to jump out of her skin. 

Then they only had one, just one arrest for Meth possession, and he was going to get it for her, even if it took all night. 

Luckily, for both of them, it didn’t take all night, Just until 2 AM (well 1:47, but that late at night he didn’t feel that bad about rounding up). 

They both walked out of the station in a tired, satisfied, fog. Tim wasn’t too tired not to walk Lucy to her car, first. She always said it was unnecessary, and he would agree, as he walked with her, anyways. 

All Tim wanted now was to fall asleep and not wake up for a few years (he wanted Lucy curled up next to him, too, but that was far to dangerous to even consider). 

“Thank you,” Lucy broke the comfortable silence. 

“What are you talking about, boot,” Lucy brushed off her praise brusquely, “That was all you.”

“I was excellent, wasn’t I,” Lucy preened, before laughing a shooting Tim a half smile, “Don’t worry Tim, I am just teasing. I know that I wouldn’t be taking my 6 month in a week, if you hadn’t majorly stepped up.”

“If you were primary day 1-”

“You wouldn’t have been Tim Bradford,” Lucy stopped in her tracks, and Tim realized with a start that they were already at her car, “Would you?”

“Do you ever wish-” Tim started, despite himself. 

(Later he would blame the 14 hour shift, or the lack of sleep, but in reality it was the look Lucy was giving him, like being Tim Bradford was a good thing to be). 

“That you weren’t my T.O.?” Lucy answered his half asked question. 

Tim nodded. 

“That first morning after,” Lucy looked at her shoes, readjusting her bag on her shoulder, “When you hated me-”

“I didn’t hate you,” Tim said quickly, and Lucy met his eyes, and he couldn’t breath. 

Lucy, determined as she was, of course was able to keep talking, while he felt like the wind was knocked out of him. 

“I wished,” Lucy shrugged, “I wanted someone else to be my T.O. then.”

“Now?” Tim asked, before he could stop himself. 

“I am going to be a better cop,” Lucy looked up at him, through her eye lashes, guileless though, kind of like she couldn’t believe she had to say the words, because they were simply fact, “Because of you.”

“You’re going to be a great cop,” Tim ran his fingers through his hair, “With or without me.”

Lucy looked like she was going to protest for a moment, but then she just leaned against that old car of hers, and shook her head, a half formed smile on her lips. 

“Careful,” Lucy tilted her head to the side as she spoke, “Or I am going to get a big head-”

“Bigger anyway-”

“Hey!” Lucy laughed, a belly laugh, and it was infectious. 

“Well,” Tim cleared his throat, feeling out of place all of sudden, “Good night.”

“Goodnight, Tim” Lucy said, as she slid into her car. 

He waited until she had driven out of the parking lot, to walk back to his truck, trying to ignore the ocean of questions, and feelings, and wants, that threatened to drown him. 

Despite the long day, and late hour, Tim had trouble falling asleep that night.


	7. no one fucks with my baby

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> God, Tim just wanted to stay in his rookie’s orbit, a little longer; if he was a man who prayed anymore, that would be what he prayed for.
> 
> But he didn’t pray anymore and this room just kept getting hotter and hotter. 
> 
> OR 
> 
> Tim and Lucy are too deep. There's no going back.

It was kind of nice, that both of them needed to study; it did eat u up a lot of their time together (but, who was she kidding, they already spent an objectively insane amount of time together, anyways). 

She quickly realized that Tim didn’t learn, like she learned. If he was someone else, if she didn’t know him as well as she was pretty sure she knew him, she would have told him that it was a learning disability. 

(But she knew him, she was pretty sure she knew him.)

She just knew, that despite there being no shame in it, Tim would have taken it badly. 

So she quizzed him as they ran, or as he punched the bag in his garage, or in their shop as they drove from call to call (the only good thing about never being able to drive the damn thing herself). 

If he noticed where and when she suggested helping him study, he didn’t mention it. 

He helped her study too, usually in his bed. 

Not like during-

Like sometimes she would be catching her breath though, and he would just, like, ask her something from the rook book, and it would turn into a study session. 

(It should have been a turn off, but it weirdly wasn’t, and she probably needed serious therapy). 

Being naked or near naked was a bit distracting, though, as far as actually absorbing information went, but it was definitely more enjoyable than the stress of studying at her own apartment. 

Still, she wasn’t going to say no to study/make out sessions (with orgasms). 

She was human, okay?

But today, the anxiety was creeping up her spine. She was only a week out, and even though she knew she had been studying like crazy, and that she was going to be fine, it didn’t feel like that. 

It felt like she was going to fall flat on her face. 

“I’m going to fail,” Lucy groaned, staring up at the ceiling, her head spinning (not event the fun kind, just the two many facts crammed in her brain, kind), “And you are going to make so much fun of me.”

“You are going to get at least a 93, boot,” Tim said darkly, “Or I will take it as a personal insult.”

She shouldn’t have felt a spark go straight down her spine when he called her boot.  
(To be fair, most things Tim said had the potential to turn her on). 

“Not helping,” Lucy muttered turning her head so that her words were half muffled in a pillow. 

“You, are a natural born text taker.” Tim shot her direction, not unkindly, “You probably loved school, for god’s sake.” 

“I didn’t love school,” Lucy said quickly, and probably unconvincingly. 

Tim threw her a look.

“I kind of loved school,” She admitted, rolling her eyes (just because he was right didn’t mean she had to like it), “Doesn’t mean I can easily memorize 1,500 penal codes though-”

She looked over at his alarm clock (because of course he had one and not just a bunch of iphone alarms at 5 minute intervals like she did), and groaned. It was already two in the morning and roll call was at eight, which means if she wanted to get any sleep, she needed to leave right now.

She almost didn’t say anything. What if she just stayed a little longer, she wondered, what if she ‘accidentally’ fell asleep. Calculating, maybe, but god, the last thing she wanted to do was drag herself out of a warm, soft bed that Tim Bradford was currently in (with no clothes on, which really disincentivised her from leaving any time soon). 

But boundaries, and lines, and all that. 

Lucy sat up, draggin the sheet close to her chest, as she did (it wasn’t any false modesty, but if Tim dragged her back into bed, there was no way she was leaving tonight). 

“Well, I should get going-” Lucy started, pushing some of her mussed hair behind her ear. 

“Just stay over,” Tim said like it was the most simple and logical thing in the world. 

“What?” Lucy looked over at him incredulously. Here she was thinking this was some unwritten, but also, somehow, set in stone rule, and he was just throwing it all out the window. 

“We have to be at the station in 5 hours,” Tim gestured at the alarm clock, and Lucy bit her lip; his math wasn’t quite right, but he was trying to make a point-“Just stay over.”

“You sure?” Lucy said, not sure why she was making him talk her into something she had wanted for weeks (since after that first night, if she was being honest with herself). 

“Yes,” Tim said, and he seemed so sure, and so steady (God, she wanted that, it was like he grounded her, like everything was going to be okay as long as he was there, too). “I’m sure.”

“Thank god,” Lucy smiled, trying to keep her voice light even as she felt that this act carried too much weight for her to feel entirely comfortable, “I am so tired.” 

He turned off the lights, after they talked for a few minutes more, and they were facing each other, but not quite touching, as she fell asleep, too fast considering how her heart was racing. 

(How had they slept in the same bed, that first night, like it was no big deal? Just sharing space after sharing orgasms, and kisses, and jokes, and it had been fun, not this deep, twisty, thing that was threatening to swallow her whole). 

She woke up with her head squarely on Tim’s chest, her limbs like vines wrapped around him. She didn’t to think, too hard, about how she must have gravitated to him, even sleeping. She should have pulled away, started to get ready, try to make this normal, but tears pricked at the edge of her eyes, and she wasn’t quite sure why. It took her about a minute to realize that Tim was awake, too. His hands were tracing patterns on her back, so light she could hardly feel them at first (when she realized, it was all she could feel, each touch electric against her skin, and she could feel where he had been low in her stomach). 

She wasn’t sure what she had expected, waking up with Tim, after everything. Tim didn’t tease her like their first morning after, and he wasn’t gruff like he had been the weeks after that. 

He was… Tender. In a way that would have sent her running with anyone else, should have sent her running with Tim. 

She knew, in her gut she knew, why her eyes were filled with unshed tears, and this felt so heavy and intense and unforgettable and difficult and wonderful- 

She was falling in love with Tim.

She should have been running towards the door. 

She didn’t though. She closed her eyes, tighter, and she curled closer to Tim. 

His hands paused their circling for a split second, like he was just realizing she was awake. She stopped breathing, not sure what holding her breath was going to do, but also feeling like she didn’t have any other choice. 

Tim didn’t say anything, he just pulled her a little closer, and she hadn’t realized that was possible. They stayed like that, for what could have been hours but was probably only minutes, until the alarm broke the spell they were under. 

Then they climbed out of bed, and got ready for work in tandem and it was almost normal. 

(It took longer than Lucy was proud of for her to look Tim in the eye). 

Like so many things that involved Tim, it became a habit, spending the night. She wished she could say that this thing between them was becoming less intense as it happened again and again, but that would be a lie. 

And she was already doing so much lying, as it was. 

❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁

The best and worst part of the job was that you never knew what days were going to be the hardest or the greatest.

Every day was full of possibilities, and anything could happen. Tim had a friend on the force who used to say that. 

“Getting the living, while the living is good,” Paul would laugh, a little nonsensically, but everyone would laugh right along. 

He had died on the job, two months after he finished his probationary year. 

It was a blessing, this work, but it was also a curse. 

When he got into the shop today, Lucy, right beside him nervous but also buzzing with all of the possibilities this job could bring. In the back of his mind he was thinking about the look on her face when she passed (she was absolutely sure she would), and it melted him in a way that should have scared him, a lot. It was going to be a good day, he had been sure it was going to be a good. 

How was he supposed to know that this would be a day that would define him? 

They were following up on lost luggage from the Grey Hound station, not exactly a high octane situation. 

Well, it wasn’t until it was. 

Thank God he got that door closed before she could charge through. 

(And she would have too, when she got that look in her eye’s nothing was going to stop her. It was one of the things he loved about her.

Not that he was ever going to tell her that. 

Not that he was ever going to get the chance to tell her that.)

He didn’t know if it was a good sign, or a really bad one, but he could hear Lucy’s heart, beating through the door. It was almost as if she was right next to him. It shouldn’t have made his heartbeat slow, but it did. 

“You’re going to be okay,” Lucy said, and he could feel her head as it tipped back and touched the door. 

What if this was the closest they were ever going to be again? 

He never told her, he should tell her. CDC, and LAPD and everyone else be damned. If he didn’t tell her now-

“You believe that,” Tim said, instead, blaming his indecision on the adrenalin, and the heat in this room, that was only rising as the day went on, “Don’t you?”

“You’re, you just have to-” Lucy started and then stopped, it was like she couldn’t catch her breath enough to get out a full thought, “You are going to be okay. I know it. I will, I mean we will, figure it out.”

He could picture her, when he closed his eyes for just a moment, looking around the room trying to put all the pieces together, to solve the puzzle. 

She was always doing that, it didn’t matter if she was swirling a staw in an overpriced margarita, surveying the contents of a dingy bar, or at her first crime scene where he could have sworn no detective looked closer, or more carefully. 

It was like she thought if she could put together all the broken pieces she could make the world whole. 

(Like she could make him whole). 

“You’ll be fine,” Tim said, not sure if it was more to her or himself, “Without me, you’ll be fine.”

“Don’t say that.” Lucy’s voice was thready and bare, and he would have given anything to reach out and touch her, or even just look at her, again.“You make me better Tim.”

God, Tim just wanted to stay in his rookie’s orbit, a little longer; if he was a man who prayed anymore, that would be what he prayed for.

But he didn’t pray anymore and this room just kept getting hotter and hotter. 

“You do, too,” Tim said, and it was as true as anything he had ever said to her. 

“Good,” Lucy’s voice was stronger now, but still ragged around the edges, “I’m glad you think so. Your’re not allowed to do whatever your thinking about doing. It’s not going to happen, okay?”

Die. She won’t say it, and the T.O. in him should make this a teachable moment. They could all die, in this job, at any moment. She needed to know that, to survive, to thrive. 

“Sure Luce,” Tim lied. “You’re right.”

He was looking at that man, as he said it, now hand cuffed and dead in the worst way he had ever seen a man die. He knew, in that moment that even Lucy wasn’t going to be able to put everything back together in that way she was so good at. 

But then things started to change, and it looked like he was going to survive it, and he wasn’t sure what he did to deserve it. 

When the CDC let him out, it was hard to look at Lucy, not because he resented her for being safe from danger (he was so grateful, if she had been in that room-), or worried she would be looking at him different (if she did look at him with pity, it would have gutted him). 

If he looked at her, he would have wanted to bring her close to him, he would have wanted to kiss her, everyone else be damned. 

If he brought her close, he would have never let her go. 

He needed to let her go. She was this bright thing, and he was only going to make her worse. 

(She was wrong, he didn’t make her better). 

If he looked at her- 

God, he didn’t know if he was strong enough to do what he knew he had to do. 

So he avoided looking at her, as they walked outside, trying to follow a conversation about suspects, arrests and bio-chemical engineering, and his head felt lighter, his chest tight. 

He didn’t remember falling, the last thing he remembered was Lucy grabbing his arm, and then there was nothing but darkness. 

❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁

Lucy was curled up in a seat next to his bed, dozing, trying to ignore the fluorescent lights, when she heard, rather than saw Tim wake up. 

“Hey,” Lucy said, her voice scratchy like she hadn’t used it in a while (which she hadn’t, she had been here half the night; even the scary night nurses couldn’t run her off), “You’re awake.”

She could feel the tears, dried on her face. The stiffness in her neck from trying to sleep in a hospital arm chair. Her hair was frizzy, and her stomach empty, and she was so fucking happy she felt like she could burst. 

“You shouldn’t be here,” Tim wasn’t looking at her, and his voice was hard, and meaner than it had ever been directed in her direction, even those first few weeks. 

As quickly as hope had bloomed in her chest, it faded, leaving unbearable dread in its wake. 

She knew him, she knew what he was trying to do. 

He couldn’t do this to her, he couldn’t push her away and try to make her hate him, it wasn’t fair.  
She had almost watched him die, had held him down as seizures had coursed through his body. 

It wasn’t fair. 

He was a good man, maybe the best man she knew, but he could be such a fucking coward. 

“Tim,” Lucy stood up, her legs almost buckling and she wished she could blame the odd angle she had just been in, and he still wouldn’t look at her.

“What?” His voice was like a razor and maybe if she was tougher, a better cop, it wouldn’t have cut her, but it did. 

She had given him all this power to hurt her, and she wasn’t sure who she should blame, Tim or herself. 

“Okay,” Lucy took a deep breath, trying to make her voice even, trying to stop herself from screaming (the night nurses would kick her out for sure, then). “Listen. I know you, I know what you want to do. You want to be an asshole and push me away-”

“Chen-” Lucy rolled her eyes, and bit back a laugh. 

He could be so unbelievably predictable. 

“There you go, calling me, Chen, soon it will be Boot” Lucy said, pointing at him as though she was cataloguing evidence, getting ready for trial, “Next you will have me jumping through hoop, after hoop, trying to make me hate you, but it won’t work. I was with you in the ambulance, you collapsed and they said you might not survive, and the seizures, god, I thought you were going to die. You can’t, please don’t, it’s not, it’s not-”

“Lucy,” Tim’s voice was guarded but he was looking at her, he was looking at her, and she could breath again. 

“Can we just skip this part,” Lucy’s voice broke open and she couldn’t be tough, not right now, “Please? You are like my best friend. I could handle it if you hated me and you were just my T.O. but your not, so could you please-” 

“I’m sorry,” Tim, tried to sit up, but the IV’s and tubes stopped him, “Lucy, I’m sorry.”

His voice was his voice again, and Lucy let out a breath she hadn’t realized she had been holding. 

“You can be such an asshole sometimes,” Lucy sniffed, and she was now then one avoiding his gaze. 

“Only sometimes?” Tim teased, and she shouldn’t be smiling, she should be angry after that stunt Tim tried to pull, and she was. 

But she was just so happy he was alive, and that he wasn’t actively trying to push her away.

Lucy looked him dead in the eye. 

“Only sometimes,” Lucy echoed, her voice cool, and Tim looked gutted. 

“I’ll take it,” Tim smiled a half smile, and Lucy felt something twist in her chest.

“You can’t do that again,” Lucy said, new tears forming, “Push me away.”

“Okay,” Tim nodded, and he closed his eyes again, “Okay.” 

Lucy sat on his bed, not caring who saw or what the consequences were, not now anyway. She grabbed his hand, lacing there fingers together. 

“Okay,” Lucy said, wishing she could make him promise not to almost die, again, but knowing that she couldn’t. So she just repeated the word, trying to make it so, “Okay.”

**Author's Note:**

> This fandom needed more friends with benefits fics!
> 
> I hope you like this work. Please give kudos and comments if you enjoyed it!


End file.
